


Red Light

by LapisLazooti



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Good Ol Mid-Coital Panic Attacks, Implied Sexual Content, Light BDSM, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Safewords, Tony Stark Has Issues, mentions at least - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2018-06-29
Packaged: 2019-05-30 06:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15090974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LapisLazooti/pseuds/LapisLazooti
Summary: Stephen comforts Tony when he has a panic attack in bed.





	Red Light

Green meant enthusiastic consent. The sub was enjoying himself greatly, wanted more and to keep things going down this route.

Yellow was a sign to take it slow. Either he was getting overwhelmed or the pain was starting to be too much, limits almost reached and things were going to need to slow down soon. It showed in more experimental sexual ventures that the other was unsure how they felt about it - but didn't want to definitively stop yet. Sometimes it meant that he had something to say and there needed to be a check-in. 

Orange was one they added themselves to the standard set of safe words after deciding they needed more of a transition from Yellow to Red. The receiving one in the scene needed to stop or take a break, but they were completely fine and it wasn't urgent. A limit was reached and they may need a little bit of care, but never much more than their usual aftercare routine.

Red lead to a screeching halt. The scene stopped as soon as the word was uttered, no questions asked. Something was severely wrong, someone was hurt or panicking. 

The only one they'd never, ever had to use between the two of them was red.. Not until Tony was on his stomach in front of him with his hands bound behind his back, the collar around his neck choking him as it was pulled by the leash in Stephen's grasp. So when man beneath him started gasping, he himself started panicking a bit. 

"Red- red, red, red, r-ed-" His voice was weak from the pressure against his throat, but it didn't stop him from being heard and sounding scared as hell. He writhed in his confines, desperately trying to break free in a blind panic. That certainly didn't help the choking situation.

Luckily Stephen was prepared for this, though they had never had to use 'red' before. He tried to keep himself calm pulled out of the man beneath him while forcing his shaky hands to untie Tony's wrists, then unhooking the clasp of the collar in a swift movement. "It's okay, I'm right here and we're done. No more tonight." He tried to keep his voice soft. That was easier said than done when his husband was hyperventilating and he needed him to hear him. He flipped him over with great care; handling the other with the gentle touch one would use with a small child. 

The fear on Tony's face lasted only long enough for the Sorcerer to take note of it. Despite the distinct change in body language, from thrashing and closing his body in on itself to falling flat against the bed in a non-defensive posture, the way he was breathing and the look in his widened eyes was a painfully familiar, sure-fire sign that Tony was having a panic attack. "Shh, shh, shhh..." Stephen tried. His own heart was beating faster than it should, thinking of what possibly could have triggered this and what he did wrong-- but calming him down was the priority. Once he settled down a bit he'd be able to tell him what went wrong.

Then Tony curled in on himself. These happened frequently enough that he could tell what kind of panic attack it was. He shifted to kneel at the edge of the king sized-bed in order to allow him some space. There were times when Tony didn't feel safe, didn't want to be touched until he had calmed down. It was hard for him to differentiate threatening touches from soothing ones when his brain shot him into a fight or flight mode. "I'll be right here when you need me. It's just the two of us in your upstate house, you're in your own bed and we were just having sex. You're safe." He noted to the other. God knows he knew what these attacks or flashbacks felt like, and sometimes hearing the situation from someone who wasn't his own mind was often beneficial. 

Soon enough, the rise and fall of the shorter man's chest turned from hysterical to slow, long breaths. He was still having an anxiety attack but had likely gotten past the flashback aspect if that was the cause in the first place.

It sort of scared Stephen how well he knew these things.

"I'm going to touch you now," He reached out with a hesitant hand, gingerly brushing his fingertips against Tony's bare shoulder after giving him the small warning. "It's just me. Just Stephen. Can you talk?"

"Y-Yeah-" Tony croaked out. His hand wavered just as much as Stephen's did as he reached out to him with a wordless question for comfort.

He was glad to deliver. The man made himself comfortable beside him on the bed, slowly pulling Tony closer so that he had time to stop him if he felt the need. ...But he didn't, sturdy but shaky frame cuddling into his chest. He felt hot breaths that slowly started to slow against his naked chest. "I apologize if I went too far."

He shook his head against his sternum. "Rings," he muttered simply. Stephen's brow furrowed as he tried to decipher the word; the realization of what it meant a few seconds before it clicked.

The Ten Rings. Afganistan. Torture. ....Right. His husband hadn't gotten too specific in telling him about what had happened, but he knew it had all been absolute hell. And he knew at least some of his trauma stemmed from it - even if it wasn't triggered all that often. Most of his attacks came from things relating to space, weapons of war, or explosions. Usually things relating to the New York incident, but when his PTSD stemmed from various times in his life, his triggers blurred together and it was hard to tell what derived from what. Or when, for that matter - they'd done something like this a handful of times and Tony had been fine. Though, he knew the context and different stimuli around him were important to how he would react. "I see. ...You aren't there anymore, love. That group isn't around anymore. You're here in my arms, there are no threats here."

Once Tony reached a certain point in his anxiety attacks, it almost felt like they were never there in the first place. He let out a breath he had been holding, his body relaxing instantly as if the puff of air had been holding all of his troubles of the night. The only proof it had happened were the tremors that shook through his body and the tempo of his heartbeats. "Sorry for messing up the night," He sighed. "I promise I'll make it up to you next time. Make sure to really treat you, get you off good-"

"Tony. You don't owe me anything." He wasn't going to fall for his lover's tactic of dirty talk to cover up guilt. Nu-uh. Not this time. "You had a panic attack. It was something you couldn't control, I'm not going to be upset with you for 'interrupting' sex. You feeling safe is my top priority, not getting off. ...Besides, we fuck like rabbits. I know I'll have another opportunity." The Sorcerer let out a small laugh in hopes of lightening the mood. But when he looked down in hopes of seeing a smile, he saw slightly parted lips and closed eyes. He couldn't say he was surprised he had fallen asleep. Panic attacks were exhausting, especially when paired with their earlier activities. He merely placed a gentle kiss to Tony's lips before letting his eyes flutter shut. He had a feeling Tony would try to 'make it up to him' - as he put it - in the morning. He certainly wanted to be well rested for that if he did.


End file.
